


Extra Credit

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blackmail, Crying, F/F, Face Slapping, Forced Orgasm, Humiliation, Pussy Spanking, Squirting, Teacher/Student, boot licking, object insertation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24949423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Lianaknowsshe can get her teacher to change her F to an A. She justknows.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Teacher/Straight A Student Who Failed a Test and Asked for Extra Credit
Comments: 7
Kudos: 242
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	Extra Credit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nonnymouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonnymouse/gifts).



> This was an absolute _delight_ to write. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Liana jiggled her leg, frowning at her test, then at the clock. The red "F" across the top of it was like a pimple on an otherwise smooth model's face. She drummed her fingers on the desk, as Miss Bakerson kept talking. 

"I know this test was hard for many of you," she was saying, and Liana rolled her eyes, biting back whatever snarky comment she might have been thinking to make. "Thinking creatively uses different muscles than rote memorization. For those of you who didn't do as well as you usually did, don't worry about it too much. It's not a big percentage of your grade." she added, and she actually _made eye contact_ with Liana, which somehow made it worse. She offered Liana a commiserating smile, and Liana flushed, biting her lip. 

She was going to _fix_ this. 

* * *

"Miss Bakerson," Liana said, standing in the doorframe of her teacher's small, windowless office. She rested one hand on the doorknob, and she tried not to show how agitated she was. She would show that she could be creative, and she'd get that A. 

Miss Bakerson looked at Liana over the rims of her glasses, and she smiled. "Hello, Liana," she said. "How can I help you?"

"I was wondering if I could talk to you?" Liana glanced at the door, then closed it behind her. Everyone was going home, but it would still be _way_ too embarrassing if someone caught her admitting to a bad grade. 

"My door is always open," Miss Bakerson said, and she smiled, resting her elbows on her desk and her chin on her hands.

"I was wondering about the F that you gave me," said Liana. "On the test we had on Thursday, I mean." 

"Yes?" Miss Bakerson nodded, and she indicated the chair in front of her with one hand. "Please, sit."

Liana sat, pressing her knees together and trying not to fidget. She leaned forward, setting her test (with the unseemly F) on the desk, and then she looked straight into her teacher's eyes.

Miss Bakerson didn't look impressed. 

"I don't understand why you gave me an F," said Liana. "I worked very hard -"

"I understand that you may have worked hard," Miss Bakerson interrupted, "but it didn't meet the criteria of the assignment."

"What do you mean, it didn't meet the criteria of the assignment?" Liana was flushing, and her hands were balled up tight in her lap. She stared down at them, and then forced her hands to relax, tracing the line of one of the checks on her skirt, over her knee. 

"I asked you to write a personal, meaningful story about when you learned something unconventionally," said Miss Bakerson. She was leaning back in her seat now, and she had pushed her glasses back up onto her face. Liana couldn't read her expression, but it was making her stomach knot up. "You wrote..." Miss Bakerson took the test, and scanned over it, "about the time you took two extra-curriculars instead of one, and ended up learning Latin."

"That does meet the assignment, doesn't it?" Liana asked. "It was unconventional, since I wasn't expecting it." 

"Rosalyn wrote about the time she learned how to tell left from right when she was seven, by trick or treating with her little cousin in their apartment building," said Miss Bakerson. "Ben wrote about learning how to knit because his mother used to make him wait in the car while she went on her social work visits, and he got bored." 

"But neither of those are unconventional," Liana argued. "Since they all make sense in context!"

"They might make sense in context," Miss Bakerson said, "but they're still unconventional. 'I learned to tell left from right by trick or treating' or 'I learned to knit by waiting in the car' require a bit more of a story than 'I learned Latin by going to Latin club.'" 

"Can I do a make up assignment?" Liana leaned forward, and her fingers were drumming on the surface of the desk. She pulled them back quickly, when she caught Miss Bakerson's expression.

"I'll offer a make up assignment in dire circumstances, but these are hardly _dire_ ," said Miss Bakerson.

"I'd disagree," said Liana. "Me getting an "F" is pretty dire." 

"You have an A+ average," Miss Bakerson said, and her tone was as dry as the papers in front of her. "You're not in danger of failing anything." She tapped her finger on the desk.

"But I've never _gotten_ an F before," Liana said, and she hated how petulant her voice was, the way her throat was closing up. "Please, I really can't... I've never failed anything before." She cleared her throat, and tried to ignore thickness in her throat, or the way her voice was breaking. 

"Now's a good, safe time to fail," Miss Bakerson said, and her voice was surprisingly gentle. Liana wasn't sure why, but that somehow made it _worse_. "A failure right now won't have too much of an impact on your future. It's annoying, sure, but I'm sure you'll get over it."

"I won't," Liana said, and her voice was low. There were tears dripping down her face, tracking down her cheeks. "Please, Miss Bakerson, I can't... I'll do _anything_ to get that A. I'll write another paper, or I'll... I'll wash your car, or watch your kids, or -"

"Liana," Miss Bakerson cut off, "that's inappropriate. I wouldn't ask a student to make up a bad grade by doing me a personal favor."

" _Please_ ," Liana said. "I won't tell anyone. You can ask me _anything_ and I'll do it, if you'll give me an A. I'm fine with inappropriate, I can give you money, just... I can't have an F." 

Miss Bakerson looked up at Liana, and there was an odd light in her eyes. She was frowning. "Anything?" Her voice had gone quiet. 

"Anything," Liana confirmed, her tone fervent. 

"And you won't tell anyone?" Miss Bakerson's tone was firm.

"I won't," said Liana. "I won't tell anyone anything." Her heart was beating very loudly in her ears, although she wasn't sure what she was so nervous about. Miss Bakerson was known for being tough, but fair, and it was rumored she had a bit of a bleeding heart, in the right situation. 

"Well," said Miss Bakerson. "Well." She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, and she looked Liana up and down. "Show me your tits."

"What." Liana blinked. She must have heard that wrong. 

"Your tits," Miss Bakerson said. "Show them to me." 

" _What_?" Liana gaped. This couldn't be happening.

"If you want me to change your grade, you'll show me your tits," Miss Bakerson said, her tone as calm as before.

"But -" Liana started.

"You said anything," said Miss Bakerson. "You said you didn't care if anything was inappropriate, remember?" She smiled, and it seemed like there were a lot more teeth in that smile than Liana remembered. "You don't need to do it," Miss Bakerson told her. "You don't need that A, after all. You've already got so many."

Liana's stomach dropped. "There's nothing else?" 

"If you want an A, you will show me your tits," Miss Bakerson said, as if it was an irrefutable fact of life. Perhaps it was. 

Liana's hands were shaking, as she pushed her black sweater up, over the curve of her breasts, to bunch up over her collarbone. It felt less... real, if she kept it on. Less tawdry. She was wearing a white blouse underneath it, and her hands were shaking as she unbuttoned it, carefully. She kept her eyes on her own knees, on her brown loafers, her grey thigh high socks. Her hands were shaking, as they went to the first button.

"I haven't got all day, Liana," Miss Bakerson said. "You already monopolize my time in class. I don't need you to do it after school as well."

Liana bit her lip, as more tears welled up. She unbuttoned her blouse, and she shivered as the cool air hit her bare belly, moving up towards her sternum as she kept unbuttoning. She was blushing, as she held her shirt open. _Why'd I have to wear the yellow bra with the little daisies today?_

"I asked to see your tits, not your bra," Miss Bakerson said. "That's one of your problems, Liana. You don't pay attention to _detail_ , and you end up missing things."

"But... they're in my bra," she said. "So by looking at my bra, you're looking at them." She met her teacher's eyes, and found them unimpressed. 

"I could say the same about looking at your tits while wearing a sweater and a blouse," said Miss Bakerson. "I guess you really don't want that A." 

"No, no," Liana said quickly. "I... I want the A. I do." 

“You’re going to have to work for it,” Miss Bakerson said. “I told you at the beginning of the year - I don’t just give out grades. You need to work for them.” 

It probably would have been easier to unclasp her bra, but it felt… less real this way. If she kept her clothes on, this was just a momentary thing, like changing in the locker room.

Liana pushed the cups of her bra under her breasts, and then she looked down at her lap. Her nipples were getting hard in the cool air, and she was flushing all the way to the tops of her breasts. 

"You're not making this very interesting," said Miss Bakerson. "Presentation is a large part. That's one of the reasons you failed, after all." 

Liana flushed, and she bit her lip. "I, um..." She trailed off, cleared her throat, then met Miss Bakerson's eyes again. 

"Yes?" Miss Bakerson raised an eyebrow.

"What was wrong with my presentation?" Liana rested her hands on her knees. 

"What _is_ wrong with your presentation," Miss Bakerson corrected. "You're sitting slumped forward, so I can't see anything. You're not presenting them to me as anything especially interesting. I could be on a nude beach, not staring at my student's tits that she's showing me to raise her grade."

Liana's face burned at the description, and she squirmed in her seat. "I don't... I don't know what to do," she mumbled. "I've never done this sort of thing before."

"Of course you haven't," said Miss Bakerson, and when Liana looked up, she saw that her teacher was rolling her eyes. "Play with them. Jiggle them, pinch your nipples. Sell it to me that what you want, more than anything in the world, is to show your teacher your tits."

"But..." Liana trailed off when she caught Miss Bakerson's raised eyebrow. 

"You can take the F," Miss Bakerson said. "It won't have much of an impact on your GPA, after all." 

"I don't want to take the F," Liana said. She cupped her breasts in her hands (barely more than a handful, really), and she kneaded them, pressing her thumbs against her nipples. She'd seen that in a dirty movie once, the one her dad kept hidden in the back of his closet. There had been a girl in that one, and she had kneaded her breasts, pulled her nipples, and moaned like she was in pain. That woman's breasts had been bigger, though, and she'd been a lot more... confident. 

Liana tried, at least. Twisting and tugging her nipples was making her lower belly tighten up, her cunt clenching around the emptiness inside of her. It wasn't that arousal was... new, per se, but she'd never done anything like this with another person. The last person to see her bare breasts like this had been her doctor, and it hadn't felt nearly this... dirty.

"You're not selling me," Miss Bakerson said dryly. "I'll tell you what. I'll give you a D, so it's not a failing grade. That's all that performance really merits."

"No, please," Liana said, and she jiggled her breasts (urgh), and pulled her nipples hard enough that it made her eyes screw up. "Please, I'll do anything, I just need that A!" 

This couldn't be healthy. She knew that, logically. It wasn't as if her parents would care - they didn't pay attention to her report cards, or her extracurriculars or... well, anything she did. Would they even believe her, if she said anything? Did this one F (or D now, actually) _really_ matter?

Yes. Yes, it did.

"Get on your knees," said Miss Bakerson. 

"What?" Liana gaped up at her. 

"Your knees," Miss Bakerson said. "Get on your knees."

"On... the floor?" Liana's head was beginning to spin.

"Where else would I ask you to get on your knees? Honestly, Liana, that's your other problem. You can't follow simple instructions. It's why you failed the test." Miss Bakerson crossed her arms, and she looked... disappointed. 

Liana licked her lips, and she made to pull the cups of her bra back over her breasts.

"I didn't say cover yourself up again," Miss Bakerson snapped. "I said get on your knees. Maybe you do deserve that F after all, and not a D, let alone an A."

"I deserve the A," Liana said fervently, and she slid down onto the floor, trying not to think of how dirty it was. She'd put everything in the laundry when she got home. 

Of course, from this angle, all she could see was the front of Miss Bakerson's desk. She couldn't see her teacher's face, although she could hear Miss Bakerson push the chair back, and then the sound of her shoes as she made her way around the desk, to stand in front of Liana. 

Miss Bakerson was wearing a nice skirt, with a blouse and a cardigan on top. Her dark hair was pinned up around her face, and in a nicer light and with a little less makeup, her face might have looked less severe. As it was, Liana flashed back to stories about witches pushing children into ovens, and she tried not to show how scared she was. 

"Lick my boots," said Miss Bakerson. 

Liana stared up at her, frowning. She could almost see up her teacher's skirt from this angle, and she was trying not to think about that, trying not to think about the guilty hope that she'd get a glimpse of Miss Bakerson's panties, because this was _not_ the time for that sort of thing. She was _wet_ , she realized, with some horror. Her thighs were sticky, her panties soaked through. 

"Lick my boots," said Miss Bakerson, and she leaned against the desk, raising one foot to nudge the toe of her boot against Liana's cheek. 

They were nice boots, made of shiny black leather, and they went all the way up Miss Bakerson's calf. Liana cautiously stuck her tongue out, and flicked it across the rounded toe.

"Put more effort into it than _that_ ," said Miss Bakerson. "I want to believe that you want it." She brought her foot down, and Liana was forced to lean further forward, until she was almost on her belly. 

Liana licked along the smooth leather, and she took some strange comfort in the smoothness of it under her tongue, and the way the rich scent that was filling her whole head. She kept licking, up Miss Bakerson's shin, then along the side, until the boot was withdrawn. 

"I'll raise your grade up to a C," Miss Bakerson said. "You clearly want it."

_You've passed now_ , thought Liana. _Go home, brush your teeth, try to forget any of this ever happened._ "I need an A," she told Miss Bakerson. "Please."

"What will you do for an A?" Miss Bakerson was tapping her foot, staring down at Liana with a frown.

"I could... I could make you come," Liana said, and she couldn't believe she was saying that. She was saying it _to her teacher_ , but if it would give her an A...

"You're offering me head to give you an A?" Miss Bakerson stepped back, and now she was looking straight down at Liana, and the line between her eyebrows seemed to have gotten deeper.

"... Yes?" That didn't feel like the right answer, but Liana wasn't sure what else to say. She couldn't take it back now, could she? 

The slap was loud enough that it made her ear ring, and that struck her before the pain. It was a flash of brightness across her nerves, and she made some wordless little noise, grabbing at her face and pressing down on it. It didn’t actually stop the pain, but it helped her feel a little better, somehow. 

"You really think I'd be interested in getting head from someone who _clearly_ has no experience and is only doing it for a grade?" Miss Bakerson looked faintly offended. 

"I'm sorry," Liana mumbled, and here were more tears dripping down her face. "I wasn't thinking when I -"

"No," Miss Bakerson said, cutting her off. "You weren't. Because you don't. You charge on ahead, and leave the rest of us to clean up after you." She grabbed Liana by the shoulder, and Liana got the hint, standing up on shaking legs. She was shorter than her teacher, and she didn't know if she'd ever felt so small. "So you'll still do anything for that A, hm?"

Liana didn't trust herself to say anything - it would come out a choked, snotty mess, she was sure of it. So she just nodded mutely, staring at a point right over Miss Bakerson's shoulder. 

"Sit on the desk," Miss Bakerson said, "and lift your skirt up for me." 

"I... can I do something else?" Liana's voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. "I just..."

"You just don't want the A," Miss Bakerson agreed. "A C is a perfectly serviceable grade. I'm sure it'll only drop your GPA -"

"I'll do it," Liana interrupted, and she sat on the desk in a rush, nearly knocking over Miss Bakerson's metal water bottle. She grabbed it just in time, and righted it, then sat on the desk, her feet dangling over the edge, the lip digging into the backs of her knees. 

"I told you to lift your skirt up, Liana, not just sit there," Miss Bakerson said, and she put a hand on each of Liana's knees, forcing them open. "Lift your skirt up for me like a good girl, and maybe I'll think about raising your grade."

"Please," Liana said. "I need..."

"You need a lot of things," Miss Bakerson said, and sounded downright _bored_. "Skirt up, or get off my desk."

Liana grasped the hem of her skirt, and she slowly pulled it up her body, until she was holding the plaid fabric up to her chest. Her panties were grey, with dark blue stripes, and there was a large wet spot, making the fabric stick to her. 

"After all that complaining, will you _look_ at that," said Miss Bakerson. Her hand drew back, faster than Liana could catch it, and then there was a bloom of pain on her vulva, and she was sobbing. 

"Please," Liana sobbed, and she was squeezing her eyes shut.

Miss Bakerson's sharp fingers dug into Liana's chin. "Look at me," her teacher said, voice equally sharp.

Liana obediently opened her eyes.

"You said I could do anything, if it would get you an A," said Miss Bakerson. She drew her hand back again, and slapped Liana's wet, sore pussy. The shock of it was enough to make her gasp - she would have screamed, if she wasn't so scared of being caught. "Is this part of anything, Liana?"

"I d-d-don't like it," Liana mumbled. "Please, can you... can you do something else?" 

Another slap. "You need to be _specific_ , Liana. Not just vague answers. They don't do any good." Another slap. "Your college professors aren't going to be happy, if your work continues to be this low quality."

"I'll be good," Liana sobbed. Her nose was running now, and the tears flowing ever freer. She was shaking, as another hit was landed, and she hated the little tingle of pleasure that seemed to accompany the pain, sending her further along the unpleasant path she seemed to be stuck on. 

"It'd be nice if you just _thought for yourself_ , for once," said Miss Bakerson. Another hit, and Liana's thighs tried to close. Miss Bakerson shoved them open, and delivered a particularly vicious hit, which seemed to land right on Liana's clit. 

"I'm sorry," Liana gasped. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm -"

Another hit, and then a sharp pinch to her inner thigh. "Yes, I know, you're sorry," said Miss Bakerson. "But what are you sorry _for_?" Another hit, and Miss Bakerson didn't lift her hand. She squeezed Liana's vulva, the heel of her hand pressing into Liana's clit, the tips of her fingers slipping between Liana's labia, to press against her entrance through the thin cotton. 

"I..." Liana mumbled. Her nose was stuffy, and her throat seemed to be full.

"You don't even know what you're apologizing for," Miss Bakerson said, her tone disgusted. She ground down a little harder, and Liana's hips twitched forward involuntarily, the sweet pressure combining with the aching heat from the slapping. "You just want me to stop." She withdrew her hand, and Liana whimpered. There was sweat gathering around her collarbone, where her sweater was bunched up, and it was dripping down her sides, along the backs of her knees.

"I'll give you a C+," Miss Bakerson said. "You've earned that much, at least." 

"I need an A," Liana said. _Why_ was she still doing this? She should have just been happy with the passing grade.

Miss Bakerson looked at her, and Liana couldn't read her expression. "Bend over the desk," her teacher said, after almost a full minute of uncomfortable eye contact. 

"You'll give me an A if I bend over the desk?" Liana stood up, and her knees were shaking.

"You don't need an A," Miss Bakerson said. "You've passed."

"I _need_ an A," Liana insisted.

"So bend over the desk," said Miss Bakerson. She stepped back, and then she leaned over, close enough that she was almost touching Liana's chest with her own. She picked up the metal water bottle, unscrewing the top, and Liana's eyes widened. 

_What's she going to do with that?_ flashed through her head.

Miss Bakerson caught her expression, and she rolled her eyes. She took a swig of water, then made a "turn around" motion with her other hand. "Well?" 

Liana got off of the desk, and her knees were shaking. She licked her lips, and then she bent over the desk, trying not to stick her backside out too much. 

The water bottle was set down on the wooden surface next to her, and then a pair of hands grabbed her hips, forcing her to stick her ass out even more. The wood was cold against her nipples, and it felt like her sweater was choking her, but she couldn't seem to figure out how to move her arms to do so. Besides, taking her clothes off made it all feel so _real_. In theory, right now she could right everything and get on with her day. Nobody would have to know.

Her skirt was flipped up in the back, and the air was cold against her bare, sticky thighs. Lacking anything else to do with her hands, she reached out, grabbing the other end of the desk. It forced her ass out even _further_ , and she could hear Miss Bakerson chuckling. 

"Spread your legs," Miss Bakerson said, and then she made an impatient noise and forced Liana's legs further apart with her own feet. Something cold and solid was pressed between Liana's legs, and the narrower, tapering end was grinding against her sore, overheated vulva.

Liana gave a little moan, and her own hips rocked forward, trying to squeeze the thing between her legs, press it closer to her. She hated how _good_ it felt, hated how badly she wanted... what? What was it that she wanted?

"Is this how you masturbate, Liana?" Miss Bakerson's voice was pleasant, conversational. She sounded as if she was asking Liana about her vacation, or maybe what her plans were for the weekend. 

"I... I don't do that," Liana mumbled, which wasn't... exactly true. She'd found some things that felt nice, but there hadn't been anything like _this_ , which felt like too much and not enough at the same time, as if she was going to drown. 

"Of course you don't," Miss Bakerson said, and she sounded annoyed. "You lack the imagination and the initiative to do even _that_ , don't you?" She grabbed a handful of Liana's ass and gave it a squeeze, then jiggled it. "Take your panties down."

"What?" It seemed like the humiliations were just piling up. Liana didn't know how much more she could take.

She _needed_ that A. 

"Your panties," Miss Bakerson said. "Take them down." 

"Do I... do I have to?" Liana looked over her shoulder at Miss Bakerson, eyes wide. 

Miss Bakerson frowned, and she stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest. "You don't _have_ to do anything," she reminded Liana. "If you want to go home now, you've got a C+. You passed. You did more than pass."

Liana didn't say anything. But she let go of the desk, to hook her fingers under the waistband of her panties, and she pushed them down around her thighs. There was cool air on her pussy now, and then the cold metal was pressed against her labia, pressing _hard_.

Liana gasped, as the neck of the water bottle ground against her clit. She couldn't seem to stop her hips from wriggling, and she pressed her face into the desk to muffle her cries as she kept _grinding_ , her toes curling in her shoes, her whole body getting closer and closer to her orgasm. The pressure at the base of her spine was getting tighter and tighter, until she was half afraid she'd combust. 

"No wonder you're such a whiny crybaby," Miss Bakerson said, her tone clinical. She removed the water bottle, and Liana actually _wailed_ , although she muffled it with her own hand before it could get too loud. "See? If you could just take care of yourself, you'd be less bothered by _one_ bad grade." 

Liana sniffed, as her legs were forced further open. 

"You need to be more _flexible_ in your thinking," Miss Bakerson continued. "More imaginative." 

Something cold and rounded was being pressed against Liana's entrance, and then it was _inside_ of her. She froze, her stomach churning, as the water bottle was pushed into her pussy, slowly but implacably spreading her open. 

"What are you _doing_?" Liana gasped, as the water bottle widened, and her cunt shamefully clenched around it. It shouldn't have felt so good, to be so full, but it was satisfying some urge she'd never even realized she had.

"See, this is what I mean about lacking imagination," said Miss Bakerson. She pushed the bottle in a little deeper, and she pressed closer to Liana, her other hand snaking around to Liana's front. The tip of her index finger rubbed Liana's clit, and Liana hissed getting up on her tiptoes in an attempt to get away, but then pressing closer, as the sweet pleasure began to get tighter and tighter at the base of her spine. "If you had _any_ imagination, you would have realized that this was going to happen. An A to B to C situation." Then she laughed, pulling the water bottle nearly all the way out, then shoving it back in. "Although in this case, I suppose it's an F to D to C. If you keep taking it like this, maybe I'll give you a B." 

Liana was pressing her hips into the finger swirling over her clit, and then she was dangling over the edge of something, something big enough that it would swallow her up. 

The bottle inside of her twisted, and the finger pressed down that harder. She cried out as she came, her cunt clamping down around the bottle, the pleasure radiating out, leaving her limp and panting on the desk.

"A B is a perfectly respectable grade," said Miss Bakerson. "B and an orgasm, that's basically charity on my end."

"I... I need an A," said Liana. She was slurring her speech. "Please. I... please."

Miss Bakerson delivered a slap to Liana's backside, and Liana yelped, jerking forward. The bottle inside of her nearly dropped out, and Miss Bakerson grabbed it, shoved it in a little deeper. "Keep that in, if you want that A so badly," Miss Bakerson said, and then she let go of the bottle, and went around the desk, to rummage through a drawer. 

Liana, lacking anything else to do, reached behind her, holding the bottle inside of her. She'd never been penetrated before, and she wasn't sure why she liked it so much, or if she liked it, or if it was just a distraction. It all seemed to be happening at once, and she didn't know what to do with herself. She had a B now. She could walk out, she could go home, she could shower and forget all of this ever happened. 

"Open your mouth," said Miss Bakerson, and Liana sat up, just enough to look her teacher in the eye. She was still at the awkward angle, forcing the bottle deeper into her.

"Why?" Liana wasn't sure what Miss Bakerson was planning, but it was making her nervous.

"Do you want an A or not?" Miss Bakerson sounded impatient. "I have things to do, you know."

_So why are you doing this in the first place?_ Liana opened her mouth, and then she almost gagged, as a marker was shoved into her mouth. Another joined it, and now she was drooling down her chin, the markers filling her mouth. They were the big, thick ones that were used to write on the whiteboards in the classroom, that were constantly running out of ink. She sucked on it, and Miss Bakerson smirked.

"Finally using your mouth for something other than sucking up to me," she said, and she pushed them a little deeper. "If you actually thought for yourself, Liana, you wouldn't be here in the first place, you know." 

Liana tried to say something, but then a marker was pulled out of her mouth, and her face was pressed into the desk. Miss Bakerson was coming around, and her thigh was pressed against the bottle, her knee bent, keeping Liana stuffed full. There were... hands on her backside, spreading the cheeks open, and then the edge of the marker was...

"No," Liana said, or she tried to, but her mouth was full, and the pain and _indignity_ was curdling in her stomach like bad milk. The sweater around her neck was grabbed, forcing her head back, and the marker was being pushed into her ass, stretching her open in ways that she wasn't _supposed_ to be stretched. This was something dirty, something that was only done by people in dirty movies, not by girls like her.

"Do you want me to stop?" Miss Bakerson kept pushing the marker inside of her, kept pulling on the sweater.

Liana nodded frantically. The fullness was... strange, and Miss Bakerson was _watching_ , she hated how Miss Bakerson could see all of the secret, dirty parts of her. 

"You need to tell me to stop," said Miss Bakerson. "And you need to tell me that you're okay with just getting a B."

Liana froze. The sweater was still pulling on her neck, and then Miss Bakerson was pressed up against her back, pressing the bottle in that much deeper, and she was pulling another marker out of Liana's mouth. 

"I'm taking your silence for agreement," Miss Bakerson said. The second marker was pressed into her, and that was too much, she was being _stretched_ , between the bottle and the markers and the humiliation of it all. "You're really working for that A, aren't you?" She yanked on the sweater again, forcing Liana's back to arch even further, and then she let go of it.

Liana flopped forward, face down on the desk, sucking desperately on the marker in her mouth. The bottle was shifting, as Miss Bakerson pushed it in with her thigh, and then Miss Bakerson's hand was snaking down again, rubbing her clit. 

"You're such a desperate little suck up of a teacher's pet you're letting me do all of this to you, just so you can get an A," crooned Miss Bakerson. She twisted the markers in Liana's ass, forced the bottle in that much deeper, and her fingers were making little figure eights against Liana's clit. "God, that's pathetic."

Liana was crying. It was muffled by the wood of the desk, but it was still ugly, embarrassing crying, tears puddling out of her face, as her nose ran and drool spilled out over her chin. The marker was slippery, and nearly falling out of her mouth, but she hadn't been told to let it drop.

She _needed_ that A. 

"So you're going to come again, like the needy, desperate thing you are," Miss Bakerson said, and then she was _pinching_ Liana's clit, and that seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back. Her orgasm was stronger than the last one, and Miss Bakerson's leg had moved down, so the bottle just... fell out of her with a clatter, and there was liquid dripping down her thighs. She was clenching around nothing, and it would have been better with the bottle inside of her, and she hated that she didn't have it, hated how good the markers felt inside of her. 

Miss Bakerson made a disgusted noise. "You got my shoes all wet," she scolded. "Did you piss yourself, Liana?"

"N-n-no," Liana said. "I don't... I don't think so." The marker had fallen out of her mouth, and was on the desk next to her. 

Miss Bakerson dabbed her finger along Liana's sticky thigh, then she shoved those fingers into Liana's mouth. "Does that taste like piss to you?"

Liana shook her head. "No," she mumbled. It didn't smell like piss, either - it was thinner, salty.

Miss Bakerson _laughed_ and she stood up. She picked up the marker from the desk, and she opened it, the scent strong enough to make Liana wrinkle her nose. She was... writing something on Liana's back, but Liana was too tired and sweaty to try to figure out what it was. 

"So it turns out you're a squirter, hm? I suspect that's going to be exciting for whoever thinks they're getting your cherry." She capped the marker, then pulled the other two from inside of Liana. "You've convinced me. You'll get your A."

"I have?" Liana stayed lying on the desk, fucked out and exhausted. She was sore inside, and... numb. 

But at least she had her A.

"You did," said Miss Bakerson. "Although I may take it away if you don't leave this room in the next five minute." She paused, and there was some shuffling. "Actually, hold on a moment." 

There was more rustling, and then she prodded Liana in the side. Liana turned around, leaning heavily against the desk, and she made a surprised noise, as a flash went off. When she could see again, she saw Miss Bakerson holding out a picture of her.

It was her face, squinting from the brightness, with her bare tits, and her open, red pussy, her pubic hair pasted down with arousal. She made a shocked noise, and Miss Bakerson smiled like a shark.

"If you tell _anyone_ about this, this picture goes out to everyone in this school, including the board members," she said, her tone sharp. "Do you understand?"

Liana nodded, still numb.

"Now get dressed," said Miss Bakerson. "Wouldn't want to miss the next bus, would you?" She was smiling like a shark. 

"Yes, Miss Bakerson," Liana said, tonelessly. 

"Aren't you going to thank me for modifying your grade?" Miss Bakerson asked, and it was back to that neutral voice. 

"Thank you for modifying my grade, Miss Bakerson," Liana said. She was buttoning her shirt up, then pulling her sweater back down.

"Of course, Liana," said Miss Bakerson. "Give me those," she added, indicating Liana's panties. "You squirted on them, they won't be comfortable to go home in."

Liana stepped out of them, handed them over. 

Miss Bakerson smiled again, and watched Liana finish getting dressed. "I'm looking forward to seeing you in class tomorrow," she told Liana. 

"You too, Miss Bakerson," Liana said, and she picked up her bag, and made her way out the door.

* * *

When she got home and had thrown up, Liana went to take a shower. She stood in front of the mirror on the back of her bathroom door, and she tried to read what it was that Miss Bakerson had written on her back. After almost five minutes of stretching, she finally figured it out. 

And then she began to cry, all over again. It seemed that she _hadn't_ worn out all her tears after all. 

A-.


End file.
